


Help the Hurt

by this_is_the_end



Series: The Winter Rogue (Story and Drabbles) [2]
Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: M/M, mentions of abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-07
Updated: 2016-03-07
Packaged: 2018-05-25 05:00:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6181252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/this_is_the_end/pseuds/this_is_the_end
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cole had only good intentions</p>
            </blockquote>





	Help the Hurt

**Author's Note:**

> This was something I wrote for my story The Winter Rogue but couldn't quite put in there yet. So, it made its appearance here - may or may not turn up in the main fic at some point t.
> 
> Enjoy!

"Tattered, bound and bleeding - he hurts you because she pays attention to him then." Cole's voice is pained, trapped in the memory he is pulling from Beowulf's mind. He stares with horrified eyes at the Inquisitor - "Scars still linger and white presses against skin, burning, searing and-"

"Cole." Beowulf's voice just barely manages not to break but on the inside he is already-

"Shattered, sobbing, begging against tainted skin and harsh horns."

Beowulf stops walking then. He can hear the others talking behind him - Bull and Dorian are insulting each other again, he notes - but then cotton fills his ears and the world begins to swim in white. His lungs are on fire as he tries to remind himself to _breathe_. Cole takes a step closer to him, drawn by his hurt, but Beowulf lurches away violently. He tastes copper as his teeth sink into his lip.

"Beowulf?" Bull's voice is low and it vibrates through Beowulf's bones. He opens his eyes to realize he had fallen to his knees and that the larger man was crouched in front of him, worried eye scanning him for injury. Bull reaches out a hand and Beowulf shies away.

"Katoh." He says the word around a lump in his throat and tears pooling in his eyes. He shoves himself to his feet and tries not to notice how his knees shake and his breath still refuses to even out. He doesn't look at Bull as the word chokes through his lips - he turns his back and keeps walking.

"I wanted to help the hurt." Cole is in front of him, speaking in a small voice. Beowulf bites his lip again.

"This is something you can't heal, Cole." He breathes through shaking teeth and fire in his lungs. Cole vanishes in a puff and Beowulf manages to take another step forward. He hears Bull's footsteps close behind him.

"Boss, the next camp is a few miles away." His voice is low with connotations meant only for the Inquisitor. Beowulf winces at the title.

"I know." He puts a bit of venom in his bite. He doesn't turn around to see Bull's expression. His steps falter slightly as a hand settles at the dip of his spine. He slows enough for their bodies to line up side by side and the fingers press deeper into his skin. "Bull-"

"We had a deal, Kadan." Bull leans in close and Beowulf's world _stops_. He trips over his own two feet and sucks in a sharp and rasping breath and his world melts down to only _Bull_.

"Y-You just-just-" His eyes fly up to meet Bull's one and his whole being is shaking. His nerves are on fire and his fingers lose their grip on his bow and his knees are weak again, but all the negative undertones are gone and replaced by - by _love_.

"He heals you." Cole's voice is a whisper carried by the wind. Beowulf and Bull don't break eye contact. "He helps the hurt."


End file.
